


All I Need

by mockingjayne



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockingjayne/pseuds/mockingjayne
Summary: Double the Lyatt, double the love.
Relationships: Wyatt Logan & Lucy Preston, Wyatt Logan/Lucy Preston
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	All I Need

Checking down at her phone, the time stamp on Wyatt’s message seems to mock her.

_See ya soon._

Lucy bites her bottom lip, her hip resting against the counter, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the design of her sweater, swirling and looping over her stomach, following a path where she knew the end, but the twists kept on coming.

The day had somehow escaped her, the dates blurring into one since moving out of the bunker. Her and Wyatt had been swept up into a whirlwind of happiness. No longer feeling the need for stolen glances and kisses, but ones that were given shamelessly, adjusting into the new routine of their lives.

Pushing her hair out of her face, she’s forced out of her reverie by the rise of smoke, and a blaring alarm that refuses to let up.

“No, no, no,” she groans, twisting around, grabbing a towel and opening the oven, as a charred smell hits her, causing her to heave. She waves the towel wildly around, asking for forgiveness from the fire alarm, but serving to only spread the burnt smell further and further into the room.

“Whoa,” she hears Wyatt having just come home, concern wafting through the air in the tone of his voice, his belongings haphazardly thrown on the counter, as he moves in further. Lightly pulling her away from the oven, his eyes quickly tracE over her before a sneaking grin appears on his face, once the immediate threat had been taken care of.

“What did that bird ever do to you?” He teases over the noise, the crooked smirk she’d long since memorized playing on his lips.

Lucy’s eyes squint, her mouth poised to spit back a response, and then she’s lurching forward, her hand flying to her mouth, and dashing out of the room.

A rush of heat cascades over her, a sick that doesn’t limit itself to the morning hangs with her, her back hunched over the toilet. aA set of hands gather her hair from her face, sweeping her curl to her back, where a soft, calming rub of his hand comes to soothe a feeling that’s becoming all too familiar.

Emptying her stomach, she pushes herself to lean against the wall, her eyes closing as she catches her breath, the taste of her sick still lingering on her tongue, and when she opens her mouth, she finds a cup in front of her.

“Thanks,” she says, swishing the water around in her mouth before leaning over to spit it out.

Wyatt’s eyes shine with concern, dotted with a glowing wonder that hinted he was catching on. They trace over her, this time with less worry, searching her for an answer to his unasked question.

“I had this whole thing planned, I was going to cook dinner, “ the amused grin spreading wider on his face at that. “And it’s ruined…” she laments, but her words seem to be speaking to more than just a dinner.

“Luce,” he nearly whispers with a tilt of his head, and she sighs, looking at the man who didn’t look the least bit like anything was ruined.

Her eyes focus on her sweater, the pieces interweaved together, braided into each other, the forms coming together to create one whole item. Her fingers seem intent on continuing to trace over the design, tears springing to her eyes, threatening to spill down her face. The fear of the unknown causing her to brim with a happiness that was so overwhelming she couldn’t keep herself from laughing.

A boisterous, almost cackling laugh escapes her lips, choked with tears. Wyatt stares at her, holding back his own laughter, until she quiets, only briefly.

“I’m pregnant,” she announces, one more hiccuped laugh, until her face falls into one of apprehension.

His own laugh bursting from him, his eyes raking over her with the same reverence she’d felt that night in the bunker.

“You’re pregnant?” He asks, as if unsure if he heard her correctly.

She nods.

“When I said we shouldn’t waste anymore time…” she trails off, and he gets that smirk on his face again, and she lightly smacks his chest. “Stop looking so proud, you did this,” she laughs.

“I seem to remember you being there, just as guilty as I am,” he jokes, scooting to rest against the same wall as her.

“That was some Christmas gift,” she teases, turning her head to face him, their eyes meeting, the blue taking on a glisten that have her wading in the same excitement mirrored back at her.

“I lied,” he says, and her brow knits together in confusion.

His hand reached out, gently, to rest on her still flat stomach, his fingertips tickling her skin. Her fingers this time tracing over his knuckles before resting atop his own hand.

“ _Now_ I have everything I need.”

Lucy swears she can feel her heart in her throat, the steady beat flutters at the thought of what their future looked like. Taking shape every day, this one no longer one that was just them, but a family. A baby.

Leaning over she places a soft kiss against his temple.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she murmurs against him.

xxxx

She blows on the hot liquid sloshing in her mug, her hips digging into the island countertop. The sun was trying to peek through the bay windows, the fog fighting to keep its rays from touching down on them.

Wyatt had gotten in late the night before, his groggy, stubbled face having woken her, as he placed a kiss on her cheek. She’d unconsciously found herself snuggling further into him, only peeling herself away before her alarm in order to get ready for class.

Lucy hears the clacking of boots and the soft giggles before she sees them.

Amy bounds into the kitchen, her bright red cowboy boots worn under her nightgown. She had all but demanded them after hearing a story from her dad about the Alamo. It took all but bribery to get her to take them off for bed, but she jumped right into them as soon as she woke up. Her hair was in messy pigtails, and her dimple peeking through her chubby cheeks, as she clumsily galloped into the kitchen.

“We have to be quiet,” Lucy whispers at them, fighting back a grin.

Flynn looks up with the same matching dimple as her sister, the green in her eyes shining in the little bit of sun peeking through.

“So we don’t wake Daddy,” she whispers, her curls falling into her face, and she pushes them back with her little hands in a way that reminded Lucy of herself.

“That’s right,” she agrees with a scrunch of her nose. A shy smile coming to Flynn’s face.

“What are we gonna make Daddy?” Amy asks, throwing her arms up under her chin, practically bursting with excitement.

“Not cereal,” Flynn says, twisting around on her feet, leaning her chin out in a knowing way.

“I think we can do better than that,” Lucy winks.

One mess and fifteen minutes later, the girls are bounding upstairs, a flurry of red and pink, before bursting into their parents room.

Their screaming giggles as soon as they see their dad his own personal alarm. Their excitement contagious as my takes off onto the bed, the cards they’d made becoming crumpled in her little hand.

Flynn, always a little more cautious, skips over to him on the side of the bed.

“Daddy we made you something!” Amy proclaims, and Wyatt sits up like he wasn’t sleeping, sending a wink at Lucy across the room.

“Is that so?” He asks, reaching out and pulling Flynn close, planting a kiss on her cheek, causing her to giggle.

Amy sets the cards in front of his face, Lucy wandering over to sit on the foot of the bed, watching the interaction. Wyatt makes a shocked face at the cards, reading them out loud, the crayon written letters as large as the cards themselves.

“Do you like ‘em?” Amy practically screams.

“Yes, ma’am, I love it,” he says, giving her a kiss that has her scrunching her face against his stubble.

“What do you have there, little miss?” He asks Flynn, who holds out the strawberry milkshake they’d made him.

He leans forward taking a sip, making a big deal about how delicious it was.

“Did Mommy help?” He whispers to Flynn, and she nods, casting a mischievous, dimpled grin at her.

“That must be why it tastes so sweet,” he says.

Lucy rolls her eyes at him, as he sits up with the girls.

“Why don’t you guys go check my bag,” he motions towards the bag he usually brought to work sitting in the corner of the room. They race to see who can get there first, Amy nearly face planting in her boots, Flynn’s curls bouncing as she runs.

Lucy moves closer to him in the bed, his arm finding its way around her waist, practically pulling her into his lap, and she grabs his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“A unicorn!” Amy screeches, running around the room. Lucy holding back a laugh at their daughter’s enthusiasm.

“Look,” Flynn says, her eyes lighting up, holding up her sloth, wrapping it in a hug, dressed in the polka dot of her pajamas.

“What do you girls say?” Lucy chimes in, and they both run over to wrap Wyatt in a hug.

“Thank you, Daddy,” they say in unison, all brown hair and dimples.

“What did you get Mommy?” Flynn asks, catching Amy’s attention until both girls are staring up expectantly at him.

“What did I get her? A big ‘ole kiss,” he says, sprinkling tiny kisses all over Lucy’s face, the girls squealing.

“That doesn’t count,” Amy shoots back with a giggle, and Wyatt’s face drops in mock hurt. 

“It doesn’t?”

“Does it?” Flynn asks, and Lucy winks at her. 

“It does,” she whispers, like she’s sharing a secret with them. “I have everything I need,” she says, seeming to appease their questions for the moment, sending them to play with their stuffed animals.

“How does dinner sound tonight?” Wyatt murmurs into her ear, pulling her close.

“Is that when I get that ‘big ole kiss?’” she teases.

“And anything else you want,” he utters back.

“I already have everything I need…schweetheart,” she whispers back, repeating his words back to him for years ago when their family was just starting.

“Happy Valentine’s Day…baby doll.”


End file.
